


hey you don't you think it's kind of cute

by preshire



Series: misadventures of nick grimshaw and harry styles [4]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Self-Indulgent cat fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preshire/pseuds/preshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry gets a cat. nick hates cats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hey you don't you think it's kind of cute

He doesn't--- he doesn't  _hate_ cats. 

No matter what Harry says. Harry's a filthy, dirty liar with no sense of morals or propriety. He doesn't  _hate_ cats. He would just much prefer it if he were not surrounded by felines. They've got shifty eyes, cats. They're sneaky and far too quiet, and every cat he's ever met has had a personal vendetta against him. 

He just, doesn't enjoy cats. He's a simple man with simple tastes, and "cat-owner" would just make him sound like even more of a recluse.

Which makes it slightly awkward when Harry shows up on his doorstep, two of his bandmates in tow and a kitten clutched in his hands.

"Hey babe," Harry grins, pecking him quickly on the cheek, pushing through deeper into Nick's apartment. "Woulda let myself in, but I've got my hands full."

"Err, I see that." Nick stands back from the parade of activity that comes traipsing in. Niall and Louis smile shit-eating grins at him, like they know what an imposition they're being and they hope the mud they're tracking in stains his carpets permanently. They've all got their arms full of shopping bags, and in comparison Harry looks like a suck holding a single mammal. He follows them down the hall, and into the dining room, where they throw their bags and stretch exasperatedly as if those few bags were perilously heavy. 

"Right, can you get out the bed for her Niall?" Harry asks, shrugging out of his jacket while juggling the kitten from side to side. He holds the coat out to Nick, who takes it automatically. Niall starts digging through the bags, and Louis is quick to push into him to help.

"I really don't think you needed to buy the shop out of all the cat supplies, Haz." Louis scoffs, holding two bags of litter up for them to see. He turns to Nick, an inquisitive look on his face. "Where should I set up her box, then Grimshaw?"

"Uh," Nick replies eloquently, because honestly it's half 12 at night and it was way past his bedtime when Harry first started hammering on his door. 

"Just leave it," Harry waves his hand. "I'll set it up in a bit. Nick, look." He holds the cat up in Nick's face, Lion King style.

"That's a cat." Nick says blankly. And it is. It is indeed a cat. A cat that is barely the size of one of Harry's gargantuan hands, and blinking blearily at him. It's got white fur, save for a couple of brown, black and orange patches around the top of its head and face. White whiskers and pastel pink nose with green eyes just as startling as the shit disturber human being holding her. 

Louis and Niall laugh, and Harry just shakes his head with a smile on his face. "Actually, it's a kitten. She's a kitten. Do you love her?"

Nick looks from the kittens soft face, back up at Harry, then down again. "She seems alright. For a cat."

"For a cat!" Louis crows triumphantly. "He hates her. I told you that you shoulda called first."

Harry looks distressed. He pushes the cat closer to Nick's face, causing the older man to recoil slightly. "She's adorable! She's only 10 weeks old and she drinks milk in little tiny bowls. She's got a bow tie!" 

Nick bites the inside of his cheek, staring with distaste at the creature. "What's her name?"

"She hasn't got one," Harry says quickly. "Thought we could name her, like, together."

Nick places a hand on his hip, and raises his eyebrows at Harry. "And why would we do that? Is this a weird practical joke, or are you really springing a pet on me?"

Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Niall and Louis exchange alarmed looks. Harry stops thrusting the cat in Nick's face, and pulls her in closer to his body instead. The kitten nuzzles up under his chin, clearly as in love with Harry as he was with her. "I was with Liam and them getting toys for their dog-- they got a dog, and they named him Loki-- and the pet shop had this tiny cage full of loads of kittens and they were all squashed in together. And this one was the oldest one, the only one left from her litter and all the rest of the kittens were cute little long-haired ones that wouldn't stop crawling on top of her while she was trying to sleep, and everyone was just ignoring her and she was left behind because she was a bit older and a bit less furry and she reminded me of you."

Nick gaped. "I remind you of the old outcast cat that no one wants?"

Louis snickers from somewhere out of sight. He and Niall had slunk off, and he could hear the two leaving his flat completely. 

"No!" Harry cries, looking quite panicked. "Well, yeah, I mean. Er, she's like, really cute?"

Nick scoffs, but he takes a deep breath as he looks back at the cat. She really is alright, for a cat. He's just lucky Aimee had packed her shit and her dog up and gotten herself a new flat when Harry had moved in. Thurston isn't particularly big or menacing, but he'd tear this little waif of a kitten to shreds. "What am I supposed to do when you're away on tour, then?"

Harry looks visibly relieved that Nick's not yelling at him, but he has the sense to look slightly ashamed. "Er," he just says, and Nick sighs again. He gets it.

"Alright then," he groans. "But I'm not scooping any litter." The delighted look Harry gives him makes getting a cat seem less awful, somehow.

~~~

Harry sets the cat on the ground, as he putters about, cat-proofing the flat. The litter goes in the bathroom, and Nick grimaces every time he walks past and sees it there. Meanwhile, the kitten lurks around underfoot, sticking close to walls and under tables.

Nick sits at the kitchen table, all but giving up on getting a decent night's sleep. He'll go in tomorrow and be horrible and cranky and he'll only play annoying 80's pop in pure spiteful hatred of the world in general. He sips at a glass of wine he poured for himself, much more wine in the cup than what he would usually drink and he's usually a bit of an wine-o. Every time the cat makes an appearance, he stares it down distrustfully; he's heard somewhere that cats sit on your chest while you're sleeping and suck out your soul. And from the way it keeps chasing Harry's heels, it's already found a new target.

His initial dislike of the creature doesn't stop him from suggesting possible names.

"How about 'Tuna Catserole'?" Nick calls out, swirling the wine in the cup in his hand. It splashes a bit, but Harry will clean it up and he will not complain. He's inflicting Cat on him, he better clean it up.

Harry turns the corner, to fix him with a slightly disgusted, slightly amused face. He doesn't even say a word, just shoots him the dirty look then continues on his mad dash to tuck the corners of his apartment with catnip and feather dusters, or something.

"Shakespurr?" Nick massages his temples, because he can honestly do better than this and he knows it. 

"I don't think you're even trying." Harry says dolefully from the other room. 

Nick snorts, because, well. "I don't fucking know," he snaps, but there's no heat behind it. He just likes being ornery. "Why not on it's birth certificate or whatever we just put a [cat emoji](http://pennwic.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/kitty_emoji.png)?"

"The full cat one, or the cartoon one with hearts in its eye?"

"Harry Styles, asking the important questions." Nick stares at his wine. "Neither, the one that looks like it's some laddy gangsta who can and will stomp the yard against you for money to feed it's 12 equally laddy kids."

"Funny thing is, I know exactly what you're talking about." Harry turns the corner for a second time, and he's swooped down and picked up the kitten on his way. He rubs his cheek against the cats fur, who looks content with Harry. "I think we ought to name her Lily."

"Lily?" Nick sets the wine down, and gestures for Harry to climb onto his lap. "Quaint."

"Not everything has to be bold and exciting." Harry says wisely, and he settles himself down on Nick's lap, resting his head on his shoulder. "She looks like a Lily."

"She looks like a misshapen mass of fur." Nick points out, wrapping his arms around Harry's body. God, he's exhausted. He just wants to pull Harry to bed with him, and fall asleep secure in the knowledge that another day has passed where Harry hasn't left him for someone younger and less crotchety.

Harry and the cat look at him as one, matching affronted looks on both their faces. "She looks perfect," Harry coos, lifting the cat above their heads again and making kissy noises at her. Nick just watches, overwhelmed with an odd mixture of utter and complete adoration for this freak of nature, Harry Styles, and exasperation that he's put up with said freak for going on 3 years.

Instead of replying, Nick instead looks the wall clock and winces at the time. "It is 1 in the morning," he moans, patting Harry's knee. "C'mon. Off to bed, now."

Harry follows after obediently, looking trusting and sleepy and generally happy with this turn of events. The cat was still just sitting in his arms, and looked as if it would be perfectly happy remaining there for the rest of it's life.

Nick raises an eyebrow. "Is the fluffball coming to bed with us?" Harry just smiles sweetly in response. Nick rolls his eyes, and stalks off to the bedroom. Harry trails after him.

~~~

He had to admit, the thing was pretty cute. He keeps that in mind as he watches the little terror slowly destroy his furniture. Harry does his best to keep up with her, always running two feet behind the cat, but he can't stop her from clawing her way up the drapes, or from peeing on the laundry pile. 

And he was sure it would only get worse, when Harry was proper gone away on tour. He wasn't optimistic about his chances of the cat magically being tamed and well-behaved for him when even Harry, actual Disney Princess, couldn't get her to stop clawing their feet and chewing their cords.

She was such a small thing, too. When he lifted her up, it barely felt like anything. It was just a mass of soft fur, and devilish claws. But at least she wasn't noisy, which Nick was at least grateful for. There was generally no yowling, and she only meowed when she expected food or was stuck somewhere.

And Harry had to go away on tour in a two days, only had a couple of days off between shows. Nick told him that he was going to sell the cat the second he was gone, but the threat was laughably empty. He wouldn't do that to his popstar.

Because Harry like, loved her and stuff. He told him the second morning they had her there was a whole new level of his love spectrum. At the top, as always was his mum and sister. Next, was Nick with sappily drawn heart decals with sparkles and glitter. And right below Nick, just barely above his bandmates, was the stupid cat they hadn't even officially named yet. Nick was grumpy a bit about that. The cat had barely been in the picture for a day and a half, and he was already about to be overtaken. By a being that pooped in a box.

The night before, Harry had let the cat into their bedroom to sleep. Nick had had plans--- big plans---, but he wasn't about to have sex with his boyfriend with another pair of eyes watching. Especially when those eyes connected to a set of claws that only loved sinking into any exposed skin. 

When that had been made clear to Harry, the popstar whined and moaned for ages about how it was just a cat, ignoring how the cat was currently bounding from one side of the room to the other, jumping up onto the bed and onto them as a quick and easy shortcut. 

Harry let him fuck him in the morning because Nick didn't have work in the shower with the door firmly shut behind him. Harry, while as a rule was always up for it, had an aversion against having sex in the shower. Something about the too cold and too hard tiles ruining his erection, and Nick never tried to pressure him into it. But one look at Nick's grumpy, sexually frustrated face as he got into the shower had Harry climbing in after him.

The morning that Harry had to leave, he kept dragging his feet and staring gloomily at the two of them. With his ugly travelling bag at his feet behind him, he drilled instructions about how to take proper care of the cat (which Harry had finally named Lily, but Nick refused to address as anything other than "The Little Terror"). Harry looked almost offensively concerned, as if he actually thought Nick would forget to feed the thing or that he'd cook it for a light snack. It made Nick a bit grouchy, and by the time Harry's car service had arrived to pick him up, he was practically shoving the man out the door. With a quick kiss to the lips, Harry had gone, and he was left with nothing but the cat.

Nick turned to look at his housemate, who was lingering near the front door because of all the noise and racket. The cat looked back at him, a curious and inquisitive look on it's stupid cat face.

"What are you looking at, then?" Nick grumbled. The cat pounced on his foot. It was not a good sign.

~~~

Nick had a DJing gig later on that night, and he had to put the finishing touches on his setlist. He checked his phone quickly, sent a quick xxx in response to Harry already texting him to check up on him. He went to fetch his laptop, and set it down on the coffee table. He switches on the television, and turns deftly to go to the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of wine. He had every intention of ignoring the cat for the next couple of days, only feeding it and-- ugh-- cleaning it's litter. 

When he pads back into the living room with wine in hand, the cat is sitting on his laptop. Nick shoos it off, and it jumps right back on. He picks it up with one hand, and he can feel its tiny little ribs and it grosses him out. He tosses it across the room, and it doesn’t land on his feet as he thought it would. Instead, it tumbled down and rolled onto it’s back. Nick’s breath catches in his throat, because what if he hurts it but before he can even stand it’s up and bounding around the room, back to Nick. He rolls his eyes at it, because he is far to suave and sophisticated to put up with persnickety kittens. He opens his laptop, and opens his iTunes with all his playlists. 

He's just finally getting into what Khloe Kardashian is getting up to on TV when disaster strikes again. While he was busy not paying attention to the cat, he hadn't noticed that it had stopped attacking his ankles, and was staring at him typing at his laptop with awe. In it's fascination, it decided to leap on top of it, closing the screen on his fingers. 

Nick yowled embarrassingly, but there was no one else around so it didn't matter. He withdrew his hands quickly, and looked woundedly at the cat. It looked back at him, and meowed quietly and jumped back down on the floor.

Nick wiggled his fingers because it bloody hurt, and then re-opened the laptop with a scowl on his face.

~~~

Nick woke up the next morning with a cat on his collar, nibbling at the tip of his nose. He groaned, and sat up just to throw the cat aside again. Honestly, it was a Sunday and the sun wasn't even up yet. He had no business being awake.

The cat flopped onto it's back from the force, but then it was up again and purring on his neck. He groaned with more ferocity this time, and pushed it a second time, then turned onto his stomach and pulled the covers up above his ears. 

He woke up a few hours later, with the cat sleeping on the back of his neck.

~~~

Harry calls on FaceTime one night when Nick should be sleeping, but isn't.

"How's Lily?" Harry demands, in lieu of a greeting, ignoring the fact that he had been texting non-stop for status updates on the well being of the kitten.

"The cat is fine," Nick says sourly, hoping he looked sufficiently dramatic enough. He was lounging across the bed, subconsciously in a seductive pose despite the fact that Harry wasn't even in the same country as he. He had the door sealed shut, but he could hear the soft meowing and scratching at the door. 

Harry's face is erratic because of the shit connection, but he gets nice enough glances of random movement, like Harry’s neck stretching as he reaches for something, and the phone freezes at a really delicious look at the exposed skin when he removes his shirt because he’s getting ready for bed. He hears through the scratchy connection. “Where is she?”

"She's in the hall, I shut the door at night." Nick is about to explain how he found cat poo on their bedroom floor one morning, but not before Harry's interrupting in his most distressed voice.

"What!" He crows, and his eyebrows are knit together in indignation. "She must be so lonely!"

Nick rubs his forehead, and he can feel this conversation ruining his sexy vibes. "They're independent, are cats."

Harry frowns. "You will be too, when I break up with you for leaving our cat in the hall."

A reluctant smile forms on Nick's face as he considers this. "Our cat." He says, testing it out. "Our cat, in our flat. Ours."

Harry's looking at him like he's lost his mind. "Yes. Our cat. Now let her in."

Nick stands up, still smiling a little bit and crosses the room to open the door. Lily bounces in, and winds her way in between his legs, vibrating a bit from purring. Nick points his camera at the ground so Harry can see, and all he can hear is the boy cooing.

"Hello Lily, beautiful lovely Lily!" Harry exclaims, and the cat perks up at the sound of his voice. She peers around the room, like she thinks that Nick has maybe been hiding Harry in his closet for the past two days. He can see her little pink nose flaring, trying to detect a smell that wasn't there, but the effort was valiant. Nick was still smiling involuntarily.

"She's the best cat in the world," Harry announces, and Nick turns the camera back to face him as he crawls back into the bed.

"Don't you have a cat back at your mums?"

"Lily is better." Harry sneers. The picture quality has finally evened out a bit, and Nick can see that Harry has his iPhone up close to his face as he lays on his side. The room is fairly dark, except for a glow of light from behind Harry that has his face a bit shrouded. But he can still see his dimples.

"I guess she's alright." Nick sighs, and he settles down in the bed as well, mirroring Harry's position exactly. His quiff is deflated, and it tickles his forehead where it touches. "For a cat, and all."

Harry laughs lightly, and his eyelashes flutter across his cheeks sleepily. "Wish I was there to cuddle both of you."

"We'll be here waiting for you to come back. Miss you loads, popstar." Nick feels tiny little feet jump onto the bed from his other side, where the bed is too wide and cold without Harry. 

"I'll be back soon as I can." Harry promises seriously. His eyes are narrowing slowly, but they peek open again rather suddenly. "What's that?"

"What's--?" Nick doesn't get the chance to finish, before a fuzzy little purring kitten has catapulted its way onto the side of his head, lost balance, and then slid down onto his face. 

"Lily!" Harry and Nick yell in unison, Nick with slight rage, Harry in utter delight. Nick listens to Harry's bubbling laughter from the line, and the fight drains out of him in record time. He lets the cat stay. Doesn't move her butt from his face.

"I love you." Nick mumbles, voice muffled through the layer of cat blocking his mouth.

Harry, still giggling slightly, runs his fingers through his hair and wipes his fringe from his eyes. "I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Really abrupt ending, I know. I just couldn't think of a proper conclusion for a story about cuddly kittens.
> 
> I've always had the strangest urge to write a fic that is pure fluff, and then end it with a major character death. Do you know how close I was to making it so that Harry died and the cat was Nick's only comfort? But I just couldn't do it, man. Just couldn't do it.


End file.
